


Pistol

by Fabulously_gay_doritos



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Analyzing the possible side effects for Deadeyes and how Jesse learned it, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Deadeye (Overwatch), Deadeye Side Effects, Deadlock Gang, Deadlock Jesse McCree, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Young Jesse McCree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 10:55:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14330955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabulously_gay_doritos/pseuds/Fabulously_gay_doritos
Summary: Jesse first used Deadeye to protect a loved one from something that wouldn't even hurt them.Of course, that kind of power comes at a cost. Hanzo lost his brother, Reyes lost his sanity-so what does Jesse loose?





	Pistol

**Author's Note:**

> Someone on discord wanted to read fics that talked about the side effects of Deadeye, but no one had any fics that popped to mind. So I'm writing one, because I have no self control. (I literally have 10 other things I need to be writing but this is what I choose)  
> I'm using Pistol from my other [fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13942635/chapters/32096574), but nothing else really pertains to it so don't even worry about it.  
> I hope you enjoy!

Dust covered everything. No matter how much you scrubbed and scratched, the grime would still settle on your skin, an omnipresent discomfort in the Route 66 base.

Because of it's proximity to the headquarters, newbies were often sent here to learn where exactly they settled in the heiarchy. Jesse used to be one of those newbies- somehow, with a few rushed weeks of practice and luck, he managed to pull himself up the ranks and out of the harsh gaze of Leader. It was currently the only thing keeping him from being a playtoy for the higher ups, from being thrown into a tank of water and drowned like a rat just for their amusement.

One of the things that pushed him up into credibility was his aim. Jesse wouldn't really call it skill- it was more luck and a steady hand. Luckily, while he was practicing one day, he saw something that sparked some inspiration into him.

A lean girl with dark skin and curly brown locks pinned into a loose pony tail was stationed at the temporary shooting range, leaning against the half-wall and shooting cans into bits and pieces with the ease only the cocky and skilled could have. Jesse was a brat, he'll admit it: a least, for the first few weeks in this hellhole. Deadlock made sure to beat him out of it later, but for now, Jesse still had the confidence any young kid had.

"Hey!"

She turned at the sound of Jesse's voice, a single eyebrow raising as she shot down the last can. "You need something, kid?"

"Yeah," Jesse jogged over to keep the conversation semi-private. "Mind teaching me a few of your tricks?"

"Never." The girl smirked at Jesse's crestfallen expression, chuckling softly as she clicked her gun to safety and led him away. "Sorry kid. Maybe once I've gotten to know you better."

Considerably happier than before, Jesse followed her like a puppy, a little skip in his step. "Oh, okay! Can I have your name then?"

She considered him for a moment. Apparently she liked what she saw. "Call me Pistol. What about you?"

"Jesse! Jesse McCree."

 

The old gold mines under the Route 66 base made for a nice place to hide away when you need a moment to yourself, especially since the place was so crowded. A certain cave separated from most of the others was Pistol and Jesse's favorite spot to run away to when Leader got too cocky or when everything got too loud.

"So, where are you from?" His question had multiple undertones, and Pistol took it to herself to answer all of them. If she answered, he would do the same, wouldn't he? Jesse had that kind of sense.

It took her a while to come up with said answers though. "Southern Louisiana, in the swampy parish of Houma. Deadlock did a lot of things for my family, and when I was young I got cocky and asked for too much. Now I got a debt over my head." She scanned him for a moment, waiting for him to answer as well.

"Don't really remember where I'm from. Never knew my parents, just the bland walls of group homes. Then Deadlock found me and took me out of the system."

Pistol hummed and nodded along, tossing a rock against the ceiling. "I see. You don't owe them anything then. You could leave whenever you wanted."

"Wh-What? Of course I owe them something, they got me out of foster care!" He shuddered under her pointed glare. "I'm not wrong."

"No, you're stupid." Huffing, she rose to her feet. "What are you scared of, Jesse?"

Jesse shrugged, looking away, "I don't know. Getting shoved back into the system, dying, losing someone I care about... Why are you asking? Why do you care?"

Body tensing, Pistol squared her shoulders. "You should be scared of Deadlock. You should be scared of leader. Deadlock isn't a family, it's hell. I've lost everything to Deadlock, because Leader is a cocky bitch who likes his money. And you- you don't owe them anything! Not your loyalty, not your respect, not your love!"

"What are you getting at?!" Clambering to his feet, Jesse tried to stand as tall as he could.

Her shouldered sagged. "Jesse, let me make you a deal." Carefully, she gathered his hand in between her own, calloused palms rough against his baby skin. "You're like a son to me, have been ever since you met me. So... If you promise to leave, to run as far as you can, I'll teach you how to shoot properly."

Hesitance shone in his eyes. Confused, Jesse struggled to respond. "But what about you?"

"As I said before, I owe them shit. To make sure I comply, they have my girlfriend under lock and key- I'll never be able to leave, but I've accepted that. You? You can. I don't want you to miss that opportunity."

Glaring at the ground, Jesse made his decision. "Fine."

 

In the dead of night, Blackwatch attacked.

Leader always had been cocky, and hadn't expected an attack- its why everything went so smoothy for the organization. Deadlock never stood a chance against them. Everyone scrambled, some into the empty desert and some even jumped off the canyon's cliff, choosing death against jail. Jesse refused to give up though. The mindset landed him in a corner, standing tall in front of Pistol with a gun in his hands. 

That's when it happened: Deadeye somehow emerged, blossoming into him like a poisonous flower.

After the first use, he felt nauseous. It wasn't too bad, so he kept going. Six more shots, and his head spinned while his senses bursted, everything zipping into hyperdrive. He could even feel the rats in the walls, the guns from miles away, and although it disoriented him he kept going. After the next use, he couldn't move his legs, and he felt blood dribble from his nose. The next use took away his senses, leaving only the gun and the figures in front of him. The world was silent except for the click of the reload.

"Jesse, what the fuck are you doing?!"

Six more shots, and he lost feeling in his body. Another set of shots, and he couldn't breathe. In the back of his waterlogged brain, he could hear Pistol's voice screaming at him more but he ignored it.

"Jesse!"

He lost his brain, no longer able to think.

"Please! Jesse!"

He couldn't move at all. Bodies were piling up in front of him, but he couldn't see far enough to notice. He felt nothing, and he had half a mind to be terrified.  
Someone, he didn't know who, shot Jesse's gun out of his hand. His body tipped as it fell, eyes fluttering closed as he lost consciousness.

"NO!"

 

The first thing he noticed when he woke up was the cold feeling of chains locked on his wrists.

Jesse pulled against them a bit before he opened his eyes, testing their strength- they were pretty fucking strong. He focused on one sense at a time. It was cold, but not terribly so. He didn't hear anything except for the soft whir of an air conditioner and someone's calm breath, steadily going in and out. His mouth tasted bloody, and his head pinged with a migraine. Opening his eyes, he found himself in a drab room with a window at the far side, a window he couldn't see through. An interrogation room. His interrogator...

A large dark-skinned man wearing a knitted beanie sat in front of him, a cup of coffee in calloused hands. Jesse fixed him with a glare, but the man had no reaction.

"Do you want to go to jail?"

"Where is she?" Jesse growled out, ignoring the man's question.

The man watched him for a moment before answering. "You're friend is fine. Her and her girlfriend will be in jail for a while, but I found a nicer one for them to stay at. Besides, they won't be in jail as long as you will."

Jesse lowered his eyes to the ground, a bit of the fire in his stomach dying down. "How many?"

"We counted 48 bodies in the corridor, and a few others with your type of bullet in them elsewhere. You have at least 48 accounts of first degree murder- even your age can't keep you away from a life sentence now."

48 bodies. He killed 48 people.

"Now, listen to me." The man crossed his arms, analyzing him carefully. "That was some skill there. Your aim was terrifying. Because of this, I have a deal for you- rot in jail, or join me. I could use your type of skill."

_I deserve to rot._

"Deal."

A few years after Jesse joined Blackwatch, he met Genji.

They had been paired together on a stealth mission- at first Jesse had tried sparking casual conversation, but after being immedietly shut down he was apprehensive to try again. Thankfully, they got along together and the silence was comfortable. The higher ups liked them together- quick, precise, and loyal. Genji never asked questions about his assignments, and Jesse usually didn't care enough to try. A perfect pair for those "iffy" missions no one wanted to talk about.  
So they stayed together in relative silence, eventually joining each other during meals and on breaks.

Then Genji popped the question during one of their breaks.

"So you're the guy that killed 48 people in a single position when he was 17?"  
Jesse froze mid-bite, widened eyes flickering over to glance at his cybernetic companion. "Uh, yeah. Who told you about it?"

Red eyes slid over to side-eye the cowboy. "Captain Amari. How'd you do it?"

"Could show you if you wanted." Hesitance lingering under his words, but Jesse didn't back down on the offer.

"Yeah." Genji stood up, snatching Jesse's sandwich and carelessly throwing it to the side. "Come on then."

"What- hey! I wasn't finished with that!" Jesse sputtered, rushing to his feet to scramble beside him.

Genji just laughed. "You are now."

They stumbled into the practice range panting, as somehow their walk here had turned into an extremely competitive race. At the sight of Jesse, Athena began to set up his usual routine, but Jesse stopped her before she could continue. "Practice B for me, if you'd be so kind." 

"Of course, Agent McCree." Six body figures entered the field, moving in random patterns.

"Thanks, darling." Jesse spun the pistol around a fingers a few times to show off before aiming. "Now, watch closely ninji boy. I ain't doing this twice."

Genji gave him a thumbs up.

Taking a deep breath, Jesse closed his eyes and shot.

Almost instantaneously his stomach twisted into knots, making him stumble back a bit after the shots. A low whistle aggravated the slowly-forming migraine. His dialated eyes opened and glanced over at Genji, who had taken to looking at Jesse with obvious appreciation.

Jesse should use it more often, get used to the side effects. _48 people._

"That was impressive, Agent McCree!" Genji cheered, but his face grew concerned when Jesse swayed. "You alright?"

"I'm fine." He said it with too much aggression and winced at how Genji shied away.

 

Over the years Jesse spent in Blackwatch, he had found himself growing a bit of a crush on his much older Commander. It wasn't the biggest crush in the world, more of an appreciation for the amazing body his Commander was lucky to have, so Jesse rarely had to worry about acting on it- besides, his Commander was an amazing man and a taken man. Jesse wasn't worth his time of day.

Commander Reyes was the one who took him in, after all. Saved Jesse from jail. Who doesn't have at least a slight crush on the fantastic man? So Jesse never worried about it.

Sadly, the crush blinded Jesse from Reyes' change of mind until it was too late.  
A mission gone wrong, as you'd expect. Reyes was tense, a mass of tangled string waiting to snap. When Reyes shot Antonio, Jesse used Gerald's state as an excuse to his Commander's actions- Jesse had wanted to do the same to the snarky piece of shit, and had only been angry at the time because Reyes changed the plan so suddenly. This time, Jesse had no excuse to explain why Reyes thought it would be an amazing idea to grab Jesse and separate from Moira and Genji and into a flanking position the enemy predicted. Cornered while Reyes nursed a wounded leg, Jesse was struggling to think-

"McCree. Deadeye. Now."

The first thing he felt was the nausea.

"Again!"

Everything flooded in as he shot again and again, somehow never running out of bullets and never loosing the strength needed to pull the trigger one more time. Faintly, he felt the others arrive- the situation was handled, they said, Reyes take his gun away-

But nothing happened, and Jesse kept going, determined to leave no one left standing. How dare they wound his Commander, the man who saved him? The cocky bitches, who felt as if no one could touch them. Jesse could, and Jesse would.

"Commander, make him stop, he's going to faint!"

"No, he's our cover. Moira, can you clear a path for us to head out on? Once you're done we'll head out."

"We don't need cover! He can't handle so many shots!"

"Shut up, Shimada!"

"You're putting him in danger!"

"We're all in danger if we don't get out!"

Someone tugged him along and the trance snapped, gun clattering to the floor as his senses all rushed in at once. It was too much and his head spun, body on fire, he couldn't breathe-

"Genji, leave him behind, we're not gonna make it otherwise!"

"What?! No! We can make it!" A familiar metal body pulled Jesse close, half-carrying him down the trashed hallway. "Don't worry, Jesse. I got you." His voice was barely above a whisper. Jesse could hear it as if he was screaming, but it wasn't like Jesse could really comprehend it anyway. His brain was mush, sloshing around in his skull and he couldn't focus- he couldn't remember how to breathe. So tired. The world around him slowly grew fuzzy, but it wasn't like he was paying attention before.

"Moira! Do something!"

"I can't do anything! This is some supernatural nonsense, I would need to analyze it in my lab before I come up with anything. Just keep going."

Jesse couldn't feel Genji'd arms anymore, and names started to blur away from him.

"This is your fault, Reyes!"

"I know that, damnit! Shut up!"

"The dropship's coming into sight! Hurry, we're almost there!"

Jesse's eyes flickered closed, body shuddering.

"Jesse! Fucking- cowboy, if you don't stay awake I swear I will-"

The world went silent. Jesse was left with blurry, moving shapes, barely familiar as they lost color and names. He didn't know where he was, or who he was, or why he still breathed.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In.

What went next?

He woke up to a blinding white. It hurt more than a hangover, leaving Jesse groaning softly, as he struggled to keep his eyes open. A few shuffling noises rang through his ears, making him wince and cover his ears with heavy limbs as fuzzy figures hovered over him.

"Jesse's awake!"

"Agent McCree, please keep your arms lowered, you're exhausted." Millions of voices filled his head at once.

He obediently put his arms down, waiting impatiently for his eyes to finally adjust. "Where's Reyes?"

Angela's worried eyes met his, eyebrows furrowed. "He's in a meeting with Commander Morrison and Captain Amari. He should be wrapping it up by now, but... They've gotten a bit heated."

Jesse snarled weakly. "Doesn't matter. I need to talk to him. Now." He weakly sat up, scanning the room for anyone else. Genji stood at his left, hurriedly pushing Jesse down in an attempt to keep him from standing.

"Jesse, you fucking moron! Reyes said he'll come as soon as he can. You don't want to enter that room, Amari's pissed-"

"Shut up!" Jesse shoved him aside with as much strength as anyone would have in his state, stepping out of the hospital bed and ripping off the wires attached to his chest. Ignoring the panicked state of Angela, who was just about to drag him back herself, Jesse left the room and slammed the door shut.

The conference room was extremely surprised when a cowboy in a dusty Blackwatch Uniform stormed into the room. By the time Jesse arrived, he had gained some of his strength back- he would have to rest a bit once he left the place, but this was important.

Reyes scowled at the sight of Jesse, crossing his arms. "Agent McCree, what are you-"

"Shut your damm mouth Reyes!" His voice was louder than a wolf's howl, full of angry judgment. Morrison almost interjected, but Captain Amari gripped his shoulder and shook her head before he could. Good. Reyes needed to hear every bit of this.

"Excuse me?! Is that how you-"

Jesse slammed his fists on the conference desk, successfully shutting Reyes up. "You've always been ready to throw me away the moment I became useless. You took me in for my Deadeye, and you nearly threw me out for it too! You risked everything for a flank that didn't even work! You regarded my power as a cover, a distraction."

The Blackwatch leader huffed. "Jesse, this job comes with calculated risks."  
Ignoring him, Jesse continued on. "On that mission, I learned so much." An accusing finger pointed at Reyes' chest, jagged and bent. "I cared about you, I defended you with my life. But when it came for you to make that choice? You chose yourself. The old Reyes wouldn't do that."

"I did it for the team!" Reyes howled right back, lips curled up into a snarl. "We would've died otherwise!"

"You aren't who you used to be, Reyes. You aren't the man I joined when I was 17." Jesse took off his commicatior from his wrist in one smooth motion, firmly setting it on the table. "I quit."

As Jesse left the Base's doors for the last time, he grabbed a change of clothes, his hat, and a spare communicator.

Just in case.

 

Jesse McCree was stupid to think his body would be fine after using Deadeye for the first time since the incident. This stupidity landed him in the center of a crowd of Talon agents, heartbeat rapidly pounding in chest as he stumbled, panicking as memories flooded his head. Memories he hasn't thought of for years. "You're putting him in danger!" Suddenly he couldn't breathe, couldn't remember how-

"Let the dragon consume you!"

Blue dragons surrounded him, crashing into the Talon agents and taking them down at once. They hunted until each and every agent had collapsed, then vanished as if never there.

"You ok, luv? You look a bit frazzled." Thin fingertips brushed over his flesh arm, bringing him back to reality. Tracer helped him to his feet- he didn't even remember falling. He waited a moment for his brain to settle, memory slowly gaining up on him again. Hanzo's dragons saved him. 

He managed a smile and tip of his hat. "Don't worry, sweetheart. Just a little headache, that's all."

Refusing to make eye contact with anyone, McCree rushed past his concerned teammates and headed up onto the Orca.

**Author's Note:**

> Well that was hard  
> I may continue this if it becomes super popular  
> Thank you for reading! <3


End file.
